Once seated, Miss Bennet smiled at Darcy. “I wish to thank you, once again, for your service to Isabella and Raimundo. You were uncommonly generous to add your guineas to my modest contribution. Isabella is a sweet girl—I had much chance to talk with her during our passage from Madeira. She and Raimundo will do well together; they are not afraid of hard work, and she’s of such gentle disposition that all who meet her will love her.”
“And you, Miss Bennet, seem not afraid of exertionyourself. I’ve heard of your supervising the enceinte women of the regiment. It’s very well done of you.”
Elizabeth looked to Mr. Darcy with genuine surprise. “I thought that you may not approve of my visiting with the women. As you no doubt know, many are vulgar, and my respectability as a gentlewoman is somewhat in peril by my association with them.”
“I know many of the gentry who would disdain such service, but I’m not one of them. Christian duty is more than mere acknowledgement of those of lower rank. Did not our Lord say:But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed.Miss Bennet, you invite these women into your house, just as Jesus taught. I commend you.” Elizabeth blushed but was saved from replying when the steward came and poured them some wine.
Shortly thereafter, Mr. Thomas joined them: the conversation turned to their journey, the delights and disappointments of Madeira, the Portuguese Regency, what they should see when they arrived at the Cape, and those many topics of which travellers talk when they are relaxed in convivial company. Darcy was invited to stay overnight, as much accommodation was available with the officers being ashore. To be a full four and twenty hours in Miss Bennet’s intelligent and lively company was sufficient enticement for Darcy to agree, and he retired well satisfied with his evening.
Chapter 9
Riode Janeiro, August 23, 1809
On the 23rd of August, the convoy weighed anchor and stood out from the harbour of Rio de Janeiro, passing through the Narrows at half past eight o’clock with a favourable breeze from the northeast. Albatrosses and pintado petrels followed the ship from shore but wheeled away when several shots were fired at them.
“Oh, will they never learn!” exclaimed Elizabeth, who was standing on the quarterdeck with the children and Mrs. Bent. “Do they not knowThe Rime of the Ancient Mariner—
…
'God save thee, ancient Mariner!
From the fiends, that plague thee thus!—
Why look'st thou so?'—'With my crossbow
I shot the Albatross.
…
And I had done an hellish thing,
And it would work 'em woe:
For all averr'd, I had kill'd the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay,
That made the breeze to blow!”
“A sailor’s superstition,” declared Captain Pasco, who came up to them, but nevertheless, he instructed the sailors to cease shooting at the birds. Perhaps because of this caution, the weather to the Cape was generally moderate, and the run of three thousand eight hundred miles was of shorter durationthan expected. Before their arrival, some ten days out, the climate changed from hot to cold so suddenly as not to allow the passengers time to adopt warmer clothing. Mrs. Bent took a moderate cold, but Mr. Bent succumbed to pleurisy, to which he was often susceptible.
“Mrs. Bent, you should be in your cot. Please—Hannah and I can see to the children if that’s your concern.” Elizabeth took the arm of Mrs. Bent, who was trying to walk down the passageway from her cabin. The roll of the vessel was throwing her against the walls, and she could scarcely make any progress.
“But I must see to the comfort of Mr. Bent,” she complained. “He’s so poorly and pale. He requires some wine and broth.”
“I’ll see to it. You cannot assist him in your condition.” Elizabeth led Mrs. Bent back to her cabin, which she shared with Mr. Bent. She lay on her cot, whimpering and very much distressed. Elizabeth turned to Mr. Bent, who was breathing with great difficulty. She laid her hand on his forehead—his skin was burning with a high fever. At that moment, Mrs. Bent’s maid, Hannah, entered the room.
“Mr. Bent is burning up,” said Elizabeth, turning to her. “Please fetch a jug with fresh water and a small towel so I can cool his brow. Mrs. Bent is also poorly but is not fevered.” She looked worriedly to the passageway behind Hannah. “Where are the children?”
“They are well, Miss Bennet; they are playing with little William in the Great Cabin under Mrs. Pasco’s supervision. I’ll fetch the water immediately. Do you also wish for Mr. Arnold to attend to Mr. Bent?”
“There’s little Mr. Arnold can do; he’s a surgeon, not a physician. It’s best if we, you and I, nurse Mr. and Mrs. Bent. Later, I’ll request some thin chickenbroth from Cook—they both lack sustenance, but water to cool Mr. Bent is all that is useful for now.”
Thus Elizabeth and Hannah spent their remaining time until the convoy discovered land and they came to anchor in Table Bay on the 23rd of September, a month to the day since leaving Rio. Fortunately for Elizabeth, who had become excessively weary, none of the regimental wives close to their time delivered their infants, though she had now expanded her ministry to support those women who were ill with the numerous ailments arising in the close quarters of an overmanned vessel, as well those poor few who had the misfortune to miscarry. Of the latter, she secured for them an extra ration of beef, for they became very pale with the bleeding, and Elizabeth knew from the women cottagers at Longbourn that red meat was the best cure for this condition, in addition to leafy green vegetables, but none of these were available.
Mrs. Bent was fatigued but recovered; Mr. Bent, though still afflicted with numerous aches and pains, was sufficiently well to go ashore the next day. The town was built on the bay between the sea in front and an immense slab of hard sandstone, Table Mountain, at the back. Nothing could be finer than thecoup d'œilfrom the bay; yet nothing has so little affinity as the bold perpendicular mountains—bare and rocky—and the low white houses, which from a distance seemed scarcely large enough to hold an ant.
